


this might be love

by mousiekosmos



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Boo Seungkwan is Whipped, Boo Seungkwan-centric, Canon Compliant, Chwe Hansol | Vernon is Whipped, First Love, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned SEVENTEEN Ensemble, hes obvlivious asf help him, jihoon is a lil shit, seungcheol is the best leader fight me, tbh someone please collect seungkwan hes so clueless he doesnt know what hes doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22229053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousiekosmos/pseuds/mousiekosmos
Summary: Boo Seungkwan had never fallen in love before, which is exactly why he had no idea what was going on with his body whenever within a ten meter radius of his longtime friend and bandmate, Hansol.orseungkwan's accidentally fallen completely head over heels for a certain somebody and henceforth is a confused mess because feelings are hard and he's oblivious as all hell
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 20
Kudos: 208
Collections: verkwan tag moisturizer





	this might be love

**Author's Note:**

> tbh this is pretty self indulgent cause i just rlly wanted to write some super fluffy crush shit but i thought i might as well post it anyways so yall could hopefully get some enjoyment outta it too im deadass such verkwan trash theres no saving me now
> 
> hope ya like it :D

Boo Seungkwan had never fallen in love before.

Sure, maybe he’d passed through that fickle stage of adolescence where the line between romance and friendship is so blurred its practically non-existent and ended up with a couple of ‘girlfriends’ as a result, but it was never love. What do seven-year-olds know about love anyway when they’d innocently say that they went on holiday with their dad once when asked how far they’d gone with a boy? Nobody’s really sure, least of all the seven-year-olds themselves, but hey, growing up is always a glorious, stupidly emotional mess anyway.

And so, as a result of basically being what Jeonghan tastefully referred to as a ‘relationship virgin’ (“Anything before high school doesn’t count!” he’d insisted indignantly one evening), Seungkwan had not the foggiest clue about what the hell was going on with his body whenever within a 10-meter radius of his longtime friend and bandmate, Hansol.

They’d clicked almost immediately when they’d first met. It was a bit like how a key perfectly fits into a slot- no one actually gets the boring ol’ logistics of it, but everybody unanimously accepts the connection and moves on with their day. However, if you asked any trainee, they could easily bang on for a good few hours about how the pair were, in Joshua’s words, practically joined at the hip.

That’s precisely why, at first, Seungkwan really thought nothing of it after seeing Hansol sweep back sweat-soaked locks of hair, mouth slightly ajar and sighing once rehearsals were through, and immediately thinking how goddamn _hot_ his friend was. Hansol was an attractive guy, after all. There wasn’t any harm in acknowledging that. Seungkwan’s always found a lot of his friends helplessly good-looking, so this was a perfectly normal, 100% platonic, _not at all romantic or thirsty_ thing to think, especially when surrounded by 12 of them.

“Hansolie looked really good today at practice.” he’d absentmindedly mentioned to Seokmin as they were locking up the dance studio, “Not that you don’t all look good, but like, he kinda hits different, ya know?”

If Seokmin’s eyebrow wasn’t already halfway up his forehead before, it certainly was now. A minor, mischievous smirk was beginning to take up residence on his left cheek. “Wait, Seungkwan, do you…?” He trailed off as if waiting for the blanks to be filled in for him.

Cluelessly, the younger blinked his round eyes at him, speaking in a sacrilegious form of Morse code. “Do I what? Spit it out, hyung!”

“Do you have a crush on Hansol?” Seokmin asked playfully, pushing him lightly on the shoulder as they walked through the heavy doors of the now-silent studio foyer. Unfortunately for the older vocalist’s unquenchable curiosity, the way that the other boy’s nose had scrunched up in surprise told him that a straight answer (or a straight Seungkwan, as it seemed) wasn’t happening.

“A _what?”_ Seungkwan weakly replied as if scandalized, mustering every last ounce of his energy to not blurt out some snappy comeback about the astonishing levels of untamable bullshit that were being reached that day. That would certainly harm his case more than help it.

Seokmin rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You can tell me if you do, bro. It’s not like I’ll judge you or anything.” He laughed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cushy old hoodie as they ambled through the brisk night. The blinding blare of the streetlights illuminated the scarred pavement before them.

“That’s nice, but why do you think I have… I dunno, _something_ for him though?”

“Because you pretty much just said you think he’s an absolute 10-outta-10.”

“And what about it?” Seungkwan huffed, jutting out his bottom lip, “I can think people are fit without feeling anything like that. You know as well as I do how gorgeous he is!” Seokmin’s eyebrow at this point had been lost in his hairline. Seungkwan huffed again with a little more vigor. “ _What?_ We’re like, best friends, so obviously I’ll hype him up!”

The gears in Seokmin’s head began turning as he came upon a realization. Now, he wasn’t usually one to pry (that was generally Soonyoung’s department), but he also wasn’t one to just sit there and let some juicy gossip go to waste either. Seventeen had never been known for their quietness, so he supposed it was one of those things that ran in the family. His smile widened. “ _The hyungs are gonna be so proud of me.”_

“What do you like about Hansol?”

A brief silence hung in the air as if dangling from an otherworldly string, a silence so overwhelmingly deafening that Seokmin swore he could’ve audibly heard whatever thoughts seemed to be buzzing around his friend’s head like bees about a flower. It felt like the longest few seconds in the world.

“Well,” Seungkwan paused, making out the blotchy silhouette of the dorm in the distance across the road and trying to figure out how to condense all his thoughts into as little time as possible because honestly what was there not to like about Hansol? He’d figured out long ago that the man was the epitome of perfection in every conceivable way and reasoned that anybody who couldn’t understand that fact was either 3 years old or unfathomably dense. “I like his smile. And his laugh. And how kind and gentle and funny and bouncy he is, and the way he lets me talk to him about anything, and how he hugs me lots and…”

He breathed dreamily for a moment, unaware that he’d completely gone off on a tangent. “The way he dances and raps and sings and how smooth his voice is and his passion… It’s weird to say, but like, he’s always there for me no matter what, ya know? It’s like we’re soulmates, or something, I don’t know what I did in a past life to des-”

“Okay, okay, I get it.” Seokmin interrupted after an even longer few seconds once they were outside the door. Seungkwan didn’t really understand why there was such a massive grin stretched across the other’s face, but, just for good measure, he added defiantly:

“But we’re nothing more than friends! I don’t like him in that way, and you know that, so don’t be getting any ideas!”

Seokmin cackled to himself wildly as if auditioning for the role of the Wicked Witch of the West and it was honestly a wonder that nobody emerged to investigate. He caught his friend’s eye as the latter was gingerly peeling a stray leaf off the side of his knitted rainbow sweater and winked.

“Famous last words, Boo”

* * *

As rumors generally do when in a cramped environment with thirteen stressed and tired young men, the notion that Seungkwan just might’ve fallen completely head over heels for his best friend had spread like wildfire to everybody in the dorm, apart from, conveniently enough, the two individuals in question.

Seokmin was, as predicted, handsomely rewarded for this information through the means of constant praise from his three oldest hyungs as well as special access to Wonwoo’s notorious secret snack drawer, though it seemed like they had all unanimously decided to just relax and watch the drama unfold rather than interfering. Though odd (he’d been expecting the dorms resident ‘angels’ to meddle immediately), he had to admit that it’d certainly be interesting.

Meanwhile, over the next few months, Seungkwan was beginning to realize that he might be coming down with something. He’d only just started to notice the unmistakable pounding of his heart as if threatening to tear through his ribcage, the way it often sped forwards like a racecar at seemingly random intervals, and how his mind had the tendency to flash blank the second a certain somebody tried to approach him.

More particularly, he was also starting to think that Hansol had started wearing something that he was secretly allergic to. Maybe it was the cologne; the intoxicating scent that Seungkwan felt had expanded and engulfed him entirely and left him dizzy whenever he took his hand to help him with a dance move he was stuck on. It could’ve been a new shampoo he’d started using or some kind of bodywash that left him helplessly unable to tear his eyes away from watching the way Hansol effortlessly moved, basking freely in a powerful kind of glory and confidence that cascaded through his veins like a raging typhoon, and how it stopped his breath in its tracks when the rapper nodded off on Seungkwan’s shoulder one night and was dreaming right under his nose.

These mysterious new allergies were also screwing with his brain, too. His mind must’ve hit up the gym recently judging by the way it had been sprinting uncontrollably at a million miles a minute with no cap. The thoughts were also oddly specific and gradually getting more and more intense on top of that, staying at the forefront of his imagination and refusing to leave like an excitable puppy with a chew-toy. The innocent thoughts of Hansol resting next to him on the sofa after schedule, Hansol taking him out for coffee, intertwining their hands together in each other’s coat pockets when the days drew long and weary. Hansol pressing his soft-looking lips to Seungkwan’s temple and holding him close as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered, the way the younger would fling his limbs haphazardly around him whilst asleep, or the how he might writhe and whine helplessly under his touches.

Good Lord. Seungkwan’s face had now been permanently dyed an eye-soring shade of scarlet, especially when Hansol was near. He genuinely had no inkling of what was happening to him, but soon figured that a day or so off could potentially do him some good. That and a bit of aspirin.

Eventually, he cornered Seungcheol after one incredibly distracted and unproductive recording session (read: Hansol had been going over the choreography for their upcoming title track whilst waiting his turn and _wouldn’t stop doing that thing with his hips goddamnit_ ), managing to hardly get a few measly decent lines out. Jihoon had impatiently waved the pair off, chucking another can behind him into the gradually forming Great Wall of Coca-Cola.

“Is something wrong, Seungkwan?” Seungcheol immediately asked with his endlessly-earnest and kind disposition once they’d entered the corridor, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Bless that man, honestly. Seungkwan thought himself lucky to have a leader like him.

“I think I’m sick.” The vocalist explained defeatedly, “I can’t concentrate during practice at all, my brain’s all over the place, and I feel like I can’t breathe and...”

Seungcheol soothingly placed a hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder, who appeared to be working himself up with increasing pace. “And?”

Seungkwan sighed, loosely folding his arms over his middle and casting a hazy gaze to the floor, “I don’t know, but there’s this…tightness? Right in my chest. Whenever something happens it feels like I’m having a heart attack.”

“Whenever _what_ happens?” Seungcheol pressed gently.

“Whenever Hansol’s around.”

It was at that moment when it all clicked for the leader. Of course. There’d been rumors floating around, but no actual certainty. What else could it be? They’d all seen the way these ‘symptoms’ seemed to grow tenfold during dance practices and the like. No wonder the other members acted as if it were a competitive sport to cajole the pair into spending time together. Still, Seungcheol decided to wait a bit to see what the younger would say next, drawing him to a more secluded part of the corridor as he babbled incessantly and praying to any deity that may exist that no staff members could hear them through the wonderfully thin papier-mâché walls.

“-now? I think he’s got something on him I’m allergic to? Wait, that’d be really weird because I don’t have any new allergies or anything like that. It’s all messy and it’s fucking with my thoughts and I don’t understand any of it. Ugh, it’s _so weird._ ‘Cause it hurts a ton, but, I don’t even know…like, I guess…I guess I kinda like it? God, that sounds really kinky, doesn’t it? I’m just so…”

The younger boy roughly clamped his hands around the sides of his mussed-up hair and tensed as if bracing for impact, lips twisted into an exhaustively confused frown. The sight was almost pitiful. “What’s happening to me, hyung?”

Seungkwan, vaguely worn out, finally paused and let himself slump slightly against the wall, and Seungcheol couldn’t help but feel a twang of pity for his bandmate, who had concern and obvious frustration written all over his pained expression.

“What thoughts have you been having?” The leader urged, taking a step closer. He knew exactly what he was about to hear, but now, confirmation was all he needed.

Shyly, fiddling with his thumbs, all boldness drained from his being, Seungkwan’s voice shrunk uncharacteristically near to a whisper. “About Hansol? Well…like, I wanna… I feel like I need him. Like I just wanna hold his hand and give everything I got to him. Like…”

“Go on.”

“Like I wanna kiss him and keep him safe and… I don’t know. It just feels like I…” Seungkwan pouted and heaved a sigh so heavy the weight of the world might as well have been on his shoulders, “I don’t know how to describe it. He just does something to me and always keeps me feeling like I’m the most important person ever. I want him…I wanna take him out and make him smile and leave mar- _kisses_ on his neck, like, he’s so… I keep thinking he’s just so beautiful t-”

Seungcheol slowly held his hand up in motion for the younger to quieten down, a knowing smile gracing those plush lips of his. “He makes you happy, right?”

“…yeah, really.”

“More than anyone else?”

“I think so.”

Nodding, the leader clasped his hands together before lacing his tone with an overdramatic faux-authority and hitching up a pair of glasses that didn’t exist. “Well, Mr. Boo, I have your diagnosis.”

The fond beginnings an eye-roll and a giggle were taking shape on the younger’s face. There was the Seungkwan Seungcheol liked to see.

“You’re in love with Hansol.”

As quickly as that previous glee appeared, it vanished, replaced with a familiar expression of disbelief and a pair of pink lips contorted into an ‘O’ of bewilderment. “I…”

“You’re _in love_ , Seungkwan, not dying of disease. Don’t give me that face! It’s a good thing!”

Any words that the vocalist had wanted to say died on his tongue as his noiselessly spluttered, already confused conscience unable to wrap itself around the prospect that he must’ve accidentally developed a more-than-crush on his best friend. For once in his life, for the first time ever in the history of mankind itself, Boo Seungkwan had been rendered completely and utterly speechless.

“Now all you have to do is confess to him!”

“ _Not_ a chance!” Ah yes, language, my old companion, we meet again. “He’s my… best friend.”

“Sorry, but ‘best friend’ my left asscheek.”

“What if I ruin everything? What if I just go and throw away all these years of friendship ‘cause my stupid ass couldn’t keep my mouth shut?” Seungkwan rambled, ignoring Seungcheol’s smooth little quip and relentlessly pacing, volume drastically increased so that the producers could probably hear them from downstairs. Hopefully not, with any luck. Nobody wanted to be having that conversation again.

“Trust me: you won’t ruin a thing, okay?” The oldest switched back seamlessly to his leader-mode, genuine kindness and care sparkling in the pools of his dark eyes, “It’s better to let your feelings out than to keep them in. You’ll end up actually getting sick if you do and I don’t want my ear bitten off by the managers. C’mon.”

Seungkwan blinked slowly, studying Seungcheol’s warm face for any signs of deception and finding nothing of the sort. “Are you sure hyung? Like super sure?”

“Positive!” he exclaimed with a satisfied grin, “You’ll have a boyfriend, and we’ll finally be able to stop watching you pine for all eternity!” Seungcheol grasped Seungkwan’s shoulders and began briskly escorting him back towards the recording studio, not leaving any room for objection.

“Hang on watching me wha-”

“Go get ‘im!”

In the blink of an eye, Jihoon had been roughly pulled from the studio by the wrist with a short-lived yelp and Seungkwan had been deposited in his place, a tad dazed from the sheer speed of the operation. The echo of the slammed door and the pitter-patter of footsteps and bickering fading out down the hall reverberated through the walls and stilled in the air like a frozen butterfly in flight. He had to hand it to him: Seungcheol really gave James Bond a run for his money. The man could secretly be an MI5 agent and everybody would be none the wiser.

A sharp creak from the entrance to the booth both startled and brought Seungkwan to his senses. He already knew who was stood there, drilling little holes into his flushed cheeks with those captivating eyes as he didn’t dare to glance up, and yet every thought he’d been repeating to himself for so long about the feelings he’d harbored for the other boy longer than he’d been aware of were screaming in a mesmerizing, meaningless noisy cacophony of defiance, urging him to ‘ _look, look, look’_.

That familiar beating and strangely addictive breathlessness expanded in his chest once their eyes met, and _god_ Seungkwan thought he could never get tired of gazing at the nebulas and galaxies within them, and he knew then that he truly had fallen so deeply that he could never rid himself of the drug that was Hansol even if he wanted to. It was a strange sort of realization, that he’d been asleep to this intoxication for so long, though hardly an unwelcome one. Hansol made him feel complete. That was it. Hansol made him thankful to be alive. Hansol could always lift his sprits even when it felt as if there was nothing in this world left for him. Hansol was real and right there and wonderful. Hansol was _Hansol_.

“-Kwannie. Yoo-hoo! Earth to Seungkwan!”

Seungkwan blinked and let his eyes drift back into focus, now realizing that Hansol had crossed the distance of the room and was stood directly in front of him, jokingly waving his hand in front of his face with a soft smile. If he’d been paying more attention, he might’ve noticed the gentle tint on the latter’s cheeks and the way he let his stare roam all over his lips.

“You good?” Hansol chuckled, tilting his head, “You kinda spaced out on me for a second there!”

“Oh, um yeah. I’m fine, yeah.” _Goddamnit, brain, don’t start pulling all this stutter-y shit on me now._ Seungkwan inwardly sighed out of sheer frustration. If only confessing was as mind-numbingly easy as Seungcheol made out to be. “How was recording?”

Though Hansol looked nowhere near convinced, he grinned, eyes scrunching up into those twinkly little crescents that made Seungkwan’s breath hitch in his throat. “Amazing, actually! I’ve done pretty much all my lines, but Jihoon-hyung might call me back to re-record some anyways. You know how he is with these kinda things.”

“Mm hmm.” Seungkwan mutely hummed, suddenly seeming to find the floor incredibly interesting as he was 100% sure that, if he kept his view trained on Hansol’s mouth any longer, he’d give into his impulses and kiss him senseless right then and there. It’d get the awkward word-fumbling stuff out the way, for sure, but he might as well write it on a giant LED billboard for all of Seoul to see if he took that approach.

Meanwhile, Hansol had leaned down slightly, craning his neck to study Seungkwan’s face. A pair of bright orange headphones dangled into the hood of his jumper, still faintly blasting the beat that he’d been rapping to in the booth. “You look like you wanna tell me something.” He smirked.

“Umm…” _Well, shit._ Seungkwan thought, eyes expanding to the size of dinner plates, _It’s now or never._ He straightened his posture in faux confidence and nodded his head repeatedly as if trying to convince himself of the reality of the situation, adoringly staring Hansol directly in the eye. “Yeah, I do have something I need to get off my chest.”

He could’ve just been imagining things, but Seungkwan swore he could see the faintest spark of hope shimmering in his friend’s chocolatey irises as he spoke. “Tell me, then. We have all evening.”

This was it. This was his chance, and he sure as hell was gonna take it. _Here goes nothing._

Wordlessly, Seungkwan reached up and took Hansol’s soft hands, which were currently mostly obscured by the sleeves of his jumper and making his heart do backflips, squeezing them carefully. The underlying tension in the studio was so thick it could’ve been cut with a butter-knife. Seungkwan took a deep breath, his nerves spiking and tingling all over his body as if being electrocuted by Cupid’s bow over and over and over again.

“Before I say anything, just…you don’t have to force yourself to look at me any differently than you already do. I just need to be completely honest with you and…fuck.” Seungkwan felt himself burst into a fit of lovestruck giggles from how pathetic his confession seemed to be starting out, still holding his crush’s hands and resisting the urge to play with his fingertips. Oddly enough, he hardly felt nervous anymore. At this point, Hansol was going to find out how he felt by the end of the day one way or another, and he was in no place to stop himself now.

He cleared his throat, shaking his head and allowing every little thing he felt to melt through the masquerade on his face. “Hansol. I’m… I’m so so _so_ in love with you.” He paused for a second to try and collect his thoughts, not missing the way the other’s breath dissipated on his tongue. “I don’t even know how long for but I…well, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met and you’re just so perfect to me. You’re so amazing and beautiful and talented and smart and funny and kind and caring and-”

A mumble. “You talk too much.”

Anything else Seungkwan was about to say fell dormant as Hansol leaned forwards and pressed their lips together, confidently, reaching around to thread his hand through the other boy’s hair and pulling him closer. Seungkwan let out an adorable, albeit slightly squeaky, gasp of surprise, going rigid for a moment before grabbing the younger’s waist so that their bodies were pressed against one another. He vaguely registered the feeling of his back connecting vigorously with the darkened wall of the studio, letting himself be pushed against it as the tip of Hansol skimmed over his bottom lip.

A needy whine escaped him, feeling the rapper smile before slipping his tongue into Seungkwan’s mouth. Hansol tasted like honey; the most dizzying, intoxicating sweetness that was as addictive as nicotine and more delicious than the sight of the sapphire phosphorescence that gathers within the tears of Angel Falls.

After what felt like an eternity of dazed bliss, the pair pulled away, panting languidly for air, smiling, cheeks beet red as they hung stars up in each other’s eyes.

“I love you so much, Hansol.” Seungkwan breathed, lips still trembling and tingling, mind as foggy as the mountain tops. He pulled him in close once more for a hug, resting his head in the crook of the younger’s neck and letting the headphones clatter to the floor.

Hansol gulped above him, and Seungkwan suddenly remembered that the younger boy hadn’t even said anything. Sure, he basically just tongue-fucked him against the wall, but that didn’t necessarily _mean_ anything _. He might’ve just been overtaken by lust or-._

“I love you too.”

_What._

“I’ve loved you for so long it’s unreal.”

_Oh my god._

“You’re an angel and I dunno what I did to deserve having you in my life. I wanna stay with you like this forever. You’re my everything, and I love you more than anything else in the world. Do you maybe wanna be my boyf- wait, Seungkwan are you crying?”

Hansol reached forwards and tenderly brushed a stray droplet off the elder’s rose-coloured cheek, who hadn’t even realized he was in floods of tears until it was pointed out to him. Shyly, he patted his eyes down with a slight, near-exasperated groan.

“Ugh, I’m sorry I’m just…” he sniffed, scrunching up his nose in a manner that made Hansol audibly coo as a few more tears dripped onto his eyelashes, “So happy. I thought you’d hate me or something!”

“What? I could never hate you, Kwannie. Don’t be stupid.” Hansol chuckled warmly and dropped a tender peck on Seungkwan’s forehead, ruffling his hair with a soothing touch. “So… what d’ya say? You wanna be my boyfriend or what?”

“Obviously!” Seungkwan cried with the biggest and most heartfelt smile Hansol had ever seen on him, letting out another small sniffle, “Took you long enough to ask.”

“Oh, come on! I was just as scared as you! You’re way outta my league!”

“No way! I could say the same thing about you!”

Hansol laughed, bright and loud, and Seungkwan felt himself fall in love all over again. “We’re so dumb, oh my god.”

“Yep!” The vocalist giggled, lightly slapping the other’s shoulder. Spontaneously, he cupped Hansol’s cheeks softly and started peppering feather-light kisses all over his pretty, young face- the curved tip of his nose, those high sloped cheekbones, that perfect cupid’s bow-, making a gentle pink blush spread from ear to ear.

"Stop…” he grumbled, no malice whatsoever in his tone, squeezing his eyes shut, “We should be getting back to the dorm. The others are gonna get suspicious.”

“They’re suspicious alright.”

Uh-oh.

The pair whipped around instantaneously with wide eyes, scooting a good few meters away from each other and shoving their hands in whatever pockets were available at the sight of a very snarky-looking Jihoon by the door with Seungcheol apologetically hovering behind him. Both were carrying small blue tubs of frozen yogurt and the older of the two appeared to have a light smudge of caramel sauce on his chin. Seungkwan pressed his lips into a tight line, refusing to make eye contact.

“How long have you been stood there, hyung?”

“Long enough.”

Hansol smushed his flushed face into his hands and groaned tiredly, eliciting a low chuckle from Jihoon. “ _Shit._ ”

“I tried to keep him busy, Seungkwan, but he’s faster than he looks.” Seungcheol said bashfully, stepping into the studio light to lean against the doorframe, “But it looks like whatever happened ended well, so it doesn’t really matter, right?”

Seungkwan hmphed in response, gradually skirting the perimeter of the room through the silences within the conversation to intertwine he and Hansol’s hands. The rapper tried, with minimal success, to fight the growing smile on his face.

Jihoon twitched his nose and glanced towards one of the walls, expertly tossing his empty tub into the dinky bin across the room. “You two are lucky this place doesn’t have corridor windows. Imagine if it was the CEO standing here instead of me. Seeing you two sucking each other’s faces off, sheesh…”

Once again, the two youngest blanched in horror, gulping loudly as Seungkwan attempted to suppress his incoming bout of awkwardly nervous laughter. “How much _did_ you see?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to worry about.” Jihoon turned on his heel to leave, propping the door open with his left foot. “Hurry up. Jeonghan-hyung’s ordering takeout and I swear to God you’ll be dead men if everything’s already gone by the time we get home.”

Hansol wordlessly flicked the lights off and rushed forwards to the open door with Seungkwan in tow. He couldn’t quite tell if his ears were playing tricks on him when he thought he heard Jihoon mutter something to the effects of, “ _Oh God, I’m going to have to clean my desk just in case, aren’t I?”_ , which made Seungcheol visibly choke on his own spit and grimace, but didn’t dare to comment on it out of fear of false accusation alone.

* * *

By the time the dorm was in sight, the sun had long set over the hefty crown of Seoul and the sky was a dark velvet studded with precious rhinestones. The cold air brought a familiar, unwelcome chill about Hansol’s skin and prompted him to shuffle over to his new boyfriend, slipping his hand into his fluffy coat pocket. “I love you, Kwannie.” he whispered in a single, hushed breath into his ear, feeling the other’s face heat up like a furnace.

Seungkwan shut his eyes, letting himself drift in the serenity of the moment like a cherub on cloud nine, and kissed the younger’s sharp jaw with the sweetest of smiles. “I love you too, Hansol.”

**Author's Note:**

> sksksksks i liked writing that kiss w a y more than i prolly shoulda done but oH WELL THATS NORMAL IG
> 
> please tell me how i did lmao cause i wanna improve nd all that jazz ily have a great day and remember to tell the people you care about that you love them :D


End file.
